He closes his eyes.
A pale yellow room. Clean. Beautiful. She is there, framed by sunshine coming through a window. Her smile is as radiant as the sun behind her. She moves closer to him, lips slightly apart. He closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her.
"I… I," she stutters, "I l-"
He opens his eyes. He can't let the fantasy finish playing out. It would hurt too much when he's dragged back into reality.
He fixes his stare onto the coffin.
Dark and cold, so unlike her.
The people around him are talking. He doesn't hear their words. To him, they're just sputtering nonsense. They didn't know her. They never knew her warmth.
He closes his eyes again, and lets the dream play out as far as he dares. When he opens them again, the people are gone. He is left with a casket in a hole.
Casually, he puts his hands in his pockets and glances around. He is alone. Nothing but the mist coming down around him. Good.
He collapses onto his knees, gasping. The pain in his heart is unbearable. The thick haze of rain seems to crush him. He's in a pounding bubble with nothing but his agony.
The man clutches the single rose in his hand, the thorns cutting into his skin, as he lets out a strangled scream.
He crawls to the grave, all forms of dignity forgotten.
The head of the coffin is damp from the light rain. He stares at it, seeing a broken man in the reflection. He tries to imagine her face there, underneath the wood, but he knows that there is no face left.
He sits back and drops the rose into the hole, a thorn breaking off in his hand.
Then he feels pressure on his shoulder. He glances up at an elderly face that is streaked with tears that have been wiped away.
"Come now, Master Bruce. It's time to go."
Bruce stands, shaking, "But… Rachel."
The whisper carries through the cemetery, laden with grief. The pure pain of the whisper flies through the city he lives to protect like fire.
The rain begins to come down harder.
"I know, sir. I know." The old man pauses, his voice shaking, "Time to say good-bye."
"No, Alfred," Bruce moves away from Alfred and looks towards Gotham's glowing skyline, "Not good-bye. No matter where I go, what I do, she will never be gone. No one is ever gone. They always linger. They worm their way into your heart. And when you think that all is lost, that there is no hope, those you have lost whisper. They whisper wise words, words of comfort. They appear again. Appear by your side to lead you into the light."
Bruce's hands turn into fists and his voice blazes with determination. He whips around to face a tired Alfred.
"I will carry Rachel with me forever, Alfred. When the night seems suffocating, when the dark overcomes my senses and I lose my way, she will be there. She will be there to take my hand and guide me back into the light!"
Bruce's speech seems to drain him of energy. He switches moods. The determination is replaced by misery once again. The mood swings, which are happening more frequently, worry Alfred.
The thorn and a drop of blood fall to the ground.
The butler, more of a father, begins to lead Bruce away from the grave, towards the car.
Bruce stops suddenly and looks towards Alfred, with twisted features and wet eyes gracing his visage.
"It hurts so much, Alfred," He is a boy again, kneeling in an alley, praying that he's dreaming.
The sight of him breaks Alfred's heart. He had promised himself years ago that he would never let Bruce wear that expression again.
He failed.
The weary man takes a deep breath to steady himself and smiles softly, "I know, sir. I know. But stitch by stitch, the memories that seem to hurt so much will heal your heart. They seem to burn and break, now. I know. But they also repair. And it seems that there is only darkness. But with the night comes the stars. The happiness you once felt is still there, in your mind. In time, you will find it in the starlight."
The boy, once a man, looks upwards towards the heavens, as he and his father, once a butler, walk into the dark beyond.
Words left behind wind their way through the trees and the graves.
"I can only hope."
A crimson thorn sinks to the ground.
Silence descends. With it comes night.
And in the inky sky, a single star shines, unwavering.
**************
A/N: Inspired by the song "Those You've Known" from Spring Awakening. My first piece of Angst!Bruce. I think some of the dialogue is a bit cheesy and there are, of course, many different ways in which Bruce could have handled Rachel's death. Lots of them went through my corkscrew of a mind, and I happened to choose this one. Eh, maybe I'll write the other ones eventually. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. Very welcome.
Disclaimer: I own it all, except for the things that I don't.